


A Winchester’s Win

by ItsmeM8



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hurt Dean Winchester, Men Crying, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Werewolf Hunt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25424377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsmeM8/pseuds/ItsmeM8
Summary: After Sam admitted why he didn’t search for Dean in Purgatory, he left his older brother broken and in the midst of an unfinished werewolf hunt. Dean’s attempt to finish what appeared to be a simple case turned out to be a lot more overwhelming than the hunter originally anticipated.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23
Collections: Supernatural





	A Winchester’s Win

“I don’t need you, Dean!” His brother’s words rung over and over in his head. “I didn’t look for you in Purgatory because I didn’t need you!”

And Dean believed it. He believed every word Sam had spat before charging out of their shabby motel room with packed bags and the car keys.

He sat pressed against his twin-bed’s wooden backboard, reassuring himself that Sam would come back, that his brother’s words didn’t bother him. But they did bother Dean. Of course they did. Dean didn’t know how to deal with his brother’s spoken truth, so he tucked his knees into his chest and let his shoulders fall, holding his head in his hands and wishing, no, praying, that Sammy would waltz back into their room and stay.

Dean hated the room. He despised the low buzz of the ceiling fan, the dripping of the shower head from the bathroom, the clanking of loose parts in the vents, the sound of his own breathing as the sun disappeared and darkness engulfed the room. All of it made his thoughts seem so loud.

God, what was he thinking? What was he thinking when he put his little brother in danger for some stupid hunt he could have handled alone? He made his brother leave his girlfriend and his damn dog because Dean had wanted Sam to himself and couldn’t manage to admit it. But how could Sam blame him for wanting his little brother’s company after what felt like a lifetime trapped in the hellish plain of Purgatory? That hellish plain where Sam hadn’t even looked for him.

Dean clenched his sweaty hands into fists around his hair, as if by grasping within his brown locks he would find the will to pull his head out of his ass and get back to work.

The case of the campground werewolf wasn’t solved yet and now Dean had to finish it without his brother. He didn’t think it would be a trying hunt considering the simplicity of one ripped out heart and one alleged ‘huge wolf’ in Queen Park, so he groggily pushed himself off of the bed and groped in the darkness until his fingers found his gun and wrapped tightly around the comforting ivory grip.

He wanted a win out of this trip. There was only one thing Dean knew he could wrap his mixed up mind around, and that was this hunt. He knew where to go and he knew what to do, and God, Dean couldn’t wait to feel that wearwolve’s neck under his boot.

He needed a win. That was the only notion that kept Dean from breaking down in the middle of the musty motel room. Sam didn’t need him, maybe no one did, but Dean pushed it out of his mind and focused on the task at hand; Killing the son of a bitch who tore open Maggie Clayton’s chest.

Dean hadn’t even reached the door handle when the sound of feathers erupted from behind him. He’d never in his life had to look to know it was Cas, but this time when he didn’t turn to meet the angel’s eyes it was because of the the heat rising in him like hellfire. Dean cursed Cas for being there. Where was Cas when Sam had nearly been killed by that stupid police officer who uncovered they weren’t real FBI? Why was the damn angel there when Dean just wanted to run away from his crappy motel room and take out his rage on some bastard wolf? If Cas had listened to him earlier, Sam wouldn’t have almost been shot. Sam wouldn’t have left.

Dean let out a staggered breath, his chest panging with a whole new wave of hurt. He clenched his jaw to stop his lip from wobbling and blinked hard to clear the mist from his eyes so Cas wouldn’t see his pain as Dean turned to face him in the darkness.

Cas seemed angelically perfect, as always, with his emotions all boxed up on the top shelf where Dean would never reach. Dean wished he could do the same at that moment. The angel seemed to glimmer in the dark room, his blue eyes illuminated and transfixing on Dean’s frame that stood slumped by the door.

Upon Cas’ head tilt, Dean straightened his shoulders and lifted his head, keeping up the untouchable strong character Cas had grown accustomed to over the years.

“Hello Dean,” Cas resited, glancing around the unlit room seemingly one brother short.

Dean locked eyes with the man in the trench coat before responding firmly, “Get out.” Dean didn’t want company if it wasn’t Sam’s. Cas didn’t seem to understand this, as he strided up to Dean until the tips of his shoes nearly touched Dean’s muddy boots. Nose to nose with the angel, Dean hissed again, “I said, get out.”

“You prayed for your brother to stay,” Cas started. “It is impossible for me to grant that, so I will stay instead.”

“That’s great Cas, but I need to leave.”

The angel tilted his head again, responding like Dean’s words had baffled him beyond comprehension, “No you don’t. Who is making you leave?”

“I want to leave!” Dean said, turning from Cas and yanking the door open to a cool night breeze wisping through the empty parking lot. He cursed himself, realizing that Sam had taken Baby when he left. It didn’t matter. Dean wanted to leave so he was getting the hell out of there.

Dean knew Castiel was an obedient angel, but he’d left Dean in pain so many times that a part of him hoped his angel would chase after him for once. Despite his spoken wish for Cas to leave him, Dean wanted the angel’s company. He was the only one besides Benny that understood, and now that his angel was back on earth, he would be perfect to confide in. But the whoosh of feathers from within Dean’s room told him his angel was still too accustomed to following orders. Cas was gone.

Dean slammed the room door behind him without a second glance, shoving his gun under his belt and taking a deep breath of the muggy air of the parking lot. He knew it would rain soon and he had a long walk ahead of him to Queen’s Park. He had accepted his fate of getting wet when water started to fall from the sky as he made his way down the grass strip beside the main road.

It was an awful journey; cars blaring their horns at the shadowy figure in the rain, bound to get hit by oncoming traffic, and the mud had become dreadful to walk in with Dean’s shoes nearly being lost to the deep sludge each time he took another step.

But none of that was as unbearable as the thoughts that rattled through Dean’s head. His brother didn’t look for him because he didn’t need him, and he was right. Dean thought he belonged in Purgatory. That’s where he was meant to be; going down fighting alongside Benny. But was he really so worthless to the world that no one even tried to find him?

Another car sped by, illuminating Dean’s face in its orange headlights. Soon Dean couldn’t tell the difference between the cool rain drenching him and the hot tears running down his cheeks. It all splashed into the puddles below him the same, converging under his mud-caked boots as he finally reached the turn off for Queen’s Park.

With each step closer to the picnic benches and communal bathrooms, Dean knew he had to focus. It was night, not a full moon, but he was dealing with a pure blood werewolf. Dean wished he could get as strong a hold on his emotions as his iron grip around his gun. He thought he was stupid for only bringing his gun and not having even reloaded it from their last encounter. So there he stood at the edge of the woods by the bathrooms with only four silver bullets in his gun and 75 acres of park to search. “Awesome,” Dean mumbled to himself before he began his trek through the nearly pitch-black forest.

He hadn’t brought a flashlight with him, but he had fought in the dark world of Purgatory for long enough that he thought he could make do without one. Twigs snapped under him as he traveled, but the rain was loud enough to hide any noise he made. Loud enough to hide any noise a werewolf might make. He was driven by emotion alone deeper into the forest, deeper into his blinding and painful thoughts.

Lightning crackled through the sky, brightening Dean’s path for the one second it took him to see the large figure that barreled straight at him.

Before he could focus, the creature was lunging at Dean’s chest, the two silhouettes tumbling to the forest floor as Dean fought to pull his gun up to the werewolf’s head.

A scream erupted from Dean’s lips as the creature pinned him and ripped its claws through his shoulder. Rain and blood stained the leaves under the hunter, but he fought on, knowing he couldn’t overpower the wolf, but managing to slip his gun to the creature's gut and squeezing the trigger.

Dean squirmed out from under the wolf as it bellowed and staggered back. The hunter looked up from the ground and trained his weapon at his adversary’s head, the discharge of his gun banging like the heavy racing of his heart that sent the sensation of triumph flooding through Dean’s veins. The figure fell flat as Dean reached to hold his bloodied shoulder.

He pushed himself out of the mud and leaned against the closest tree as he stared at the crumpled body at his feet. It wasn’t as satisfying as he had hoped, but he guessed it counted as a win.

He was drenched, bloody, and starting to feel his mind shut down into sleep mode, but he knew it would be a fifteen minute walk out of the forest and an hour walk back to the motel. That's how long it had felt on the way to Queen’s Park at least.

Dean regained his posture and was about to begin his trip back when a new set of yellow eyes lit up in the foliage. He cursed, holding his gun up at the creature waiting in silence thirty yards away. He didn’t want to wait for it to attack, but Dean couldn’t risk missing with only two bullets left, so he did what he could do best. Taunting.

“Come on twinkletoes!” he yelled over the rain. “We gonna dance or not?”

The silhouette growled at him, but the creature restrained itself and stayed planted in the cover of darkness. Dean couldn’t fathom what the werewolf could possibly be waiting for.

Dean sauntered forward with his gun up, barking, “Got cold feet or…” he trailed off when another pair of yellow eyes flickered into view behind the first werewolf, but he kept a steady pace, the thought of running not even crossing his mind. That is, until three more sets of eyes lit up. Dean faltered. “Son of a bitch.”

Five werewolves. Dean couldn’t do five werewolves with two bullets. No human could kill five werewolves with only two bullets.

All at once, the group bolted forwards, but not agile enough to prevent Dean’s first bullet from lodging into the skull of the lead werewolf. The moment the first of the five fell, the hunter trained his pistol at another wolf, letting his last bullet fly and not even taking the time to watch if it hit its mark as Dean turned heel and ran.

Dean’s boots pressed further into the mud with each bound made towards the forest’s edge. His heart raced. Ears pounded. Shoulder stung. Lungs burned.

If he could just make it out of the forest, he’d be okay. That’s what he told himself over and over.

But the hunter knew the wolves we’re gaining faster than he could run. Dean always wanted to go down fighting, but never alone. Never without Sam at his side.

He’d made it barely five minutes when the first werewolf caught up. It lunged at Dean, it’s claws running down the back of his calf when he jumped out of the way of a full body slam. Dean yelped at the pain, but wouldn’t stop. He just ran.

He might never understand emotion like Sam, how to follow orders like Cas, or be able to stay strong like Benny, but running he knew. He’d been doing it all his life and right then it was the only thing that could save him.

God, Dean wished, no, prayed, he had more bullets. Just three more damn bullets for three more damned wolves.

It didn’t take long for another werewolf to reach Dean. He tried to zig zag out of the way, but his boot hit a tree root and his leg gave out, sending him face first into the muddy leaves. He started to lift himself up, but the wolf was already on him, tearing at his back as the hunter screamed for help. Dean knew he was a dead man when the second werewolf came, soon followed by the third.

He thrashed under the three bodies piled on him, managing to flip over and pistol whip one just to have his gun knocked from his hand and his arm pinned down. Dean watched as one of the monsters opened its mouth wide, teeth dripping with hunger and eyes glowing with—

Bang!

The werewolf toppled down onto him, motionless as it’s blood pooled onto Dean’s shirt.

Bang! Bang!

Dean laid with the three werewolves crumpled over him like limp rag dolls, his eyes growing wide when he turned his head in the mud to see Sam, arms stretched out with gun in hand.

His brother ran up to him, crouching down and pushing the dead bodies off Dean before helping him sit up against the closest tree. Dean’s breaths were staggered and he didn’t know what was his blood or the werewolves’ blood, but he knew it wasn’t good. His chest was nearly ripped open from the attack, and when Dean looked down to see, he couldn’t stop the tears from welling in his eyes. It was bad. Really bad.

He always wanted to go down fighting, and now Sam was there at his side. As his little brother held him, Dean saw he was crying. An ugly and broken cry that let Dean know what was about to happen.

Dean didn’t want to die.

He had so much he needed to tell Sam, but all he could manage was a quiet whisper he wasn’t quite sure his brother could hear over the storm, “It's okay, Sammy.” And Sam kept crying, tears, blood, and rain all piling on Dean as he stammered, “You’re gunna,” Dean tried to say the words but it wasn’t working. He hated that his voice wasn’t working. Sam could go back to a normal life now. He needed to tell Sam to go back to his girlfriend and his stupid dog, and to forget about his big brother, because as long as Sammy was going to be okay, Dean could rest his eyes for a moment.

Just a moment, Dean thought as he let his eyes close.

“Dean, no,” Sam blurted, “Stay with me Dean!”

Dean could hear his brother's words, but he felt himself fading as he groggily opened his eyes just to have them fall closed again.

“Don’t go, please don’t go,” Sam begged before saying, “I need you Dean.”

I need you Dean.

Then there was a light. A bright light Dean could see and a new voice chiming, “I fulfilled your prayers Dean. I brought Sam back and I gave him three bullets just as you said.”

And Dean’s eyes shot open as he felt his chest being woven back together under his angel’s soft hands. Cas was there, kneeling next to Sam who was fully soaked in rain with matted hair and shaky hands gripping Dean’s shirt collar. Sam pressed his head against Dean’s healed chest, still shaking in sobs.

“Those werewolves really knew how to tango,” Dean admitted before bringing his arm up and wrapping his brother into the tightest hug he could muster, barely suppressing the urge to pass out on the forest floor next to the three dead werewolves.

Still holding his brother, Dean looked up at Cas and smiled, silently thanking his friend for saving his life. And though he had nearly died, Dean felt a smile crawl onto his face.

He had Cas, and even if he didn’t understand Dean all the time, the angel was there for him when it counted. And he had Sam, who might not always need him, but Dean was okay with that. He had his family. And family was all Dean ever wished for.

Family was one hell of a win.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed my one shot! This is my first time doing any form of fan fiction, so if you have any suggestions, tips, or praises, I encourage you to leave a comment!


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